


We must reinvent love (to accommodate my oviposition kink)

by tinkle_time



Category: Gravity Falls, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Crack, Eggs, M/M, Mullet!Stan, Oviposition, Safer Sex, Sibling Incest, background ryden, background stancest - Freeform, no sap as lube this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkle_time/pseuds/tinkle_time
Summary: Stanley Pines is working as a bouncer for a pop-up Panic! at the Disco show when a gorgeous twink informs him that he MUST see this show. Long story short: Stan goes home with a heartbroken Ryan Ross and they have kinky sex to forget their exes. I don't even know, dude.





	We must reinvent love (to accommodate my oviposition kink)

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty. Odd. is such a good album, right? Right.

Stan shivered and pulled his threadbare jacket closer to his broad frame. He was making some cash as a bouncer tonight, and it simply wouldn’t do to look anything less than terrifying. In Stan’s experience, the scarier he looked, the less shit he got from clubgoers. Shivering wouldn’t do much to help him command respect. Tonight, though, the club’s crowd was a lot more… punk than normal. Kids with dyed black hair and unhealthy amounts of eyeliner were descending upon the club in droves, all because of some pop-up show taking place at the club for one night only. Some disco something. But the more he saw, the more he thought that this didn’t look like any disco he’d ever been to. Whatever. He was getting paid to stand outside a door and maybe break up a few fights, and that was all he cared about. It had been much too long since he’d eaten anything of substance, and he really,  _ really _ needed a haircut. 

A tall, lanky brunet snapped Stan out of his reverie. The brunet towered over Stan, but he was as scrawny as Ford had been before puberty. The man’s tenuous physical similarities to Stan’s twin, however, were the last thing on Stan’s mind. Stan was entirely enraptured by the delicate curves of the man’s face. His plush, inviting lips and rich brown eyes held the entirety of Stan’s focus. Stan almost didn’t realize that the man was talking to him. 

“Excuse me? Hello?” said the brunet, sexily as fuck.

“Yeah, whaddaya want?” grunted Stan, significantly less sexily.

“I’d like to get into the Panic! at the Disco show. That’s here tonight, yes?”

“It might be. But I just let the last people in. No one else is gettin’ into the club. We’re already at capacity, and if I let anyone else in, my boss’ll have my ass,” explained Stan. Why he was explaining his reasoning to this twink motherfucker as opposed to just kicking his ass to the curb was beyond him. 

“Hey, man. Look, I really need to get into this show,” the brunet looked around and lowered the volume of his enchanting tenor, “My name is Ryan Ross, and I used to be in this band. My ex—EX BANDMATE! Ex bandmate.—is playing, and I would really like to see him perform. Do you think you could just let this one slide and let me in?”

The man—Ryan, he said his name was—gave Stan the sweetest smile he’d seen in months. Fuck. Stan was hooked. “Ugh. Alright, kid. But you’re the last one. And I gotta see your ID. You don’t look a minute over nineteen.”

Ryan’s face lit up and he reached for his wallet. “Of course! Here. Thank you so much. This means the world to me. And yeah, I get that a lot. I’m actually 23. I guess I’ve just got a young face. It really doesn’t match my old soul,” mused Ryan.

Stan opened the club’s front door for Ryan and waved him inside. Ryan gave him another illuminative smile and disappeared into the crowd. 

~~~~~

A few hours later, Stan was helping the club close up. He put some drunk guys in cabs and shuffled groups of people out of the door. He was clearing out the bathrooms when he found the tall twink from earlier crying in one of the bathroom stalls.

“Hey, kid. Are you, uh. You okay?” Stan offered awkwardly.

Ryan sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I just. I didn’t think seeing him would be so hard. Seeing him all alone up there, singing those songs we wrote together. I was hoping that if I watched him, it would be like watching the sun, you know? You look at it long enough and it blinds you. I just. I don’t want to feel anymore.”

“I know what that’s like,” Stan sighed. “You hope that if you’re around them enough, the feelings will go away. But believe me, it doesn’t work that way. Maybe it’s best if you don’t see him. Your ex bandmate, I mean.”

Ryan considered Stan’s words for a moment and stared into the middle distance. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Or maybe,” Ryan fixed Stan with an intense gaze, “maybe I just need a good fuck.”

“Yeah, that would probably do it,” said Stan hurriedly. “I think I know a guy who can help you out with that, if you’re into that kind of thing. He doesn’t exactly have his own place, though.”

Smirking, Ryan reached for Stan’s hand and entwined their fingers. Stan tried not to focus on how wrong it felt. “You tell this guy that I’ve got a place just around the corner,” chuckled Ryan.

Hand in hand, the pair left the club and walked to Stan’s car. “Nice ride,” said Ryan appraisingly.

“Thanks,” said Stan. He tried very hard not to think about how many times he had fucked his brother in it.

The ride through Laurel Canyon was a relatively quiet one. Both men were thinking about loves that they’d lost, with a few thoughts excitedly spared for the night ahead. Ryan would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to splitting Stan in half with his monster cock. He hoped halfheartedly that Stan would moan as sweetly as Brendon did once upon a time, but he knew that such hopes would be fruitless. 

Stan parked in Ryan’s driveway and fidgeted with his keys. If he was being honest, it had been a long time since he went home with someone based on mutual attraction and not financial incentives. He was nervous that Ryan, who looked like he could go after fur and feathers both with a high degree of success, would have buyer’s remorse as soon as Stan got naked.

Ryan showed Stan into his home wordlessly. As they entered the foyer, Ryan abruptly turned around and broke the silence. “So you’re really cute, and you seem like a nice guy, but I’m just looking for fun. Just for one night. Just to take my mind off of my ex,” Ryan said hurriedly.

Stan, taken aback by Ryan’s sudden outburst, regarded him with wide eyes. “Yeah, of course. I, uh. I’m getting over someone too, so, y’know. I get it. ‘S okay,” he said, shooting a small smile at Ryan.

“Good. Thanks. I, uh. I’m not really used to this. The casual sex thing. My ex was my first.” God, Ryan looked cute when he blushed.

Stan reached out and grasped Ryan’s slender hand. “Really, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And this—whatever we do—doesn’t have to mean anything.”

The taller man looked down at Stan and smiled shyly. “My room is this way.”

“Hey,” Stan said. “C’mere.”

Stan reached his free hand out and cupped the side of Ryan’s face, caressing his cheek with a calloused thumb. They looked into each other’s eyes for a beat, and Stan tentatively pressed his lips against the luxuriously soft skin of Ryan’s lips. He was immediately self-conscious about his own chapped lips. He really needed to invest in a tube of lip balm. 

All thoughts of lip balm left Stan’s mind once Ryan licked the seam of his lips. Stan granted Ryan’s tongue entry, and the pair kissed in Ryan’s entryway until they were breathless. Panting, the two pulled apart. “My room?” Ryan gasped.

“Yeah,” croaked Stan.

Both men stumbled down the hallway, occasionally pausing to remove an item of clothing or make out a little. When they finally reached Ryan’s bedroom, both Ryan and Stan were down to their underwear. Stan’s boxer’s build was accentuated by his ratty boxers, and Ryan’s briefs were doing their level best to hold back his straining half chub. The pair found themselves making out in front of Ryan’s bed. Ryan ran his fingers through Stan’s mullet, causing the shorter man to grunt softly. Stan gasped as the taller man kissed down his throat and moved his hands down to Stan’s ample shoulder hair. The guitarist knew how to play Stan like a fiddle. Or maybe a guitar. Stan was never good at similes. Or was that a metaphor? Regardless of the literary devices and musical specifics of the situation, Ryan Ross knew how to get Stanley Pines’s dick hard.

“Hey” said Stan arousedly. “What do you wanna do here? What do you like?”

Ryan considered him for a moment. “I’d very much like to fuck you. And maybe, if you’re up for it, I could shove some silicone eggs up your ass.”

“Holy f-yes. Yes. You could definitely do both of those things,” Stan said, trying very hard not to shoot his load right then.

“Really? You’re not weirded out by the eggs?”

“Nah. My bro—broyfriend—BOYFRIEND. My boyfriend was into much weirder stuff” said Stan, awkwardly trying to hide the fact that he used to have really kinky sex with his twin brother.

“Oh. Cool! Uh, I’ll go get the eggs and stuff then,” Ryan said. “Don’t go anywhere ;)”

As Ryan stepped into his giant walk-in closet to retrieve his sex toys and safer sex supplies, Stan stepped out of his boxers and made himself comfortable on Ryan’s bed. He’d snuck more than a few glimpses at the bulge in Ryan’s briefs, and he hoped to god that he was a shower and not a grower. Stan leisurely jacked himself off, hoping to get as erect as possible before Ryan laid eyes on his impressively girthy yet comparatively miniscule member. 

Ryan walked back towards the bed with various items in hand. He forgot all about them once he laid eyes on Stan’s sizeable donger and thicc arms and belly. If he wasn’t at full mast before, he certainly was now. “You are the most gorgeous man under 5’9” that I’ve ever seen” muttered Ryan lowly.

“Just you wait, sugarlips. You haven’t even seen the back,” murmured Stan as he unceremoniously rolled onto his hands and knees. 

Stan was simply stunning. Two skinny chicken legs led up to an ass that was much less impressive than his brother’s but that was still pretty good. Stan’s arms and cock were rock hard, but his tummy and chest were soft in all the right places. But what really enraptured Ryan was Stan’s perfect asshole. Ryan was convinced that he had never seen such an anus. Poetry and song could only do so much to describe such a vision, and Ryan would spend the rest of his life trying to immortalize that asshole in song. He would never even come close.

“Oh my god, can I please eat you out?” begged Ryan.

“Hot belgian waffles, I thought you’d never ask” said Stan.

Ryan lunged forward, lube and a dental dam in hand, and applied lube to the side of the dental dam that would come into contact with Stan’s anus. Then he mcfreakin’ went to town. Like, you know those chocolate assholes that you can make for your Valentine? I mean, why would you, but you know what I’m talking about? Ryan ate ass like he had been practicing on custom Stanley Pines asshole chocolates for years. 

Stan, for his part, was loving every minute of it. His hips bucked as he got lost in the feeling of Ryan’s tongue swirling around his winking hole. “Fuck, babe. You’re so good at that,” Stan groaned. Ryan’s tongue suddenly poked past his rim. “Fuck, FORD!” he shouted.

“What?” asked Ryan, taking a breather from Stan’s ass.

“What?” asked Stan, who didn’t realize that he had just shouted his brother’s name.

“Nothing,” said Ryan, returning once more unto the breach. He didn’t cry “God for Harry, England, and Saint George,” but he did consider it.

“Hnnng, Ryan, fuck me,” panted Stan.

Ryan flung the dental dam across the room and reached for the lube and a condom. He prepped Stan’s ass with his slender, spidery fingers. Stan tried not to dwell on the fact that Ryan’s hands were smaller and less equipped with fingers than he was used to. Ryan took out the giant condom he planned on using for his magnum dong. He rolled it onto his freakishly large love stick, and slowly pressed his manhood into Stan’s portal. Both men groaned in harmony. Ryan filed that noise away for later. “God, who needs sunlight when you’ve got a full moon like this?” panted Ryan, palming Stan’s ass.

Stan backed up onto that dick. “Deeper,” he begged. Ryan, the green gentleman that he was, obliged. Stan was finally full, and feeling Ryan’s cock stretch him and fill him and rub against his prostate sent him over the edge. He spasmed on Ryan’s exceedingly large dong and shot spurt after spurt of semen all over Ryan’s tasteful duvet. Ryan slowed his thrusts as his dick slightly softened. “Um. I can’t actually come unless you’re full of eggs,” Ryan said timidly. 

“Let’s fix that then, shall we?” rumbled Stan seductively. 

Stan, who had collapsed in an exhausted heap, rolled onto his back and looked up at Ryan. “What kinda eggs we got, here?”

“They’re medical grade silicone, and you’ve got your pick of colors,” said Ryan.

Stan picked up a large orange egg and examined it. The egg had swirls of metallic copper running through it. At the wide end of the egg, the letters “B.U.” were artfully poured into the egg in red silicone. Must be some kinda brand name, Stan thought. The letters were on the rest of the eggs, too. “How do ya wanna do this, kid?”

Ryan considered Stan for a moment. “I’d like to put one or two eggs in you, whatever you’re comfortable with, and then I want to fuck you until I cum. Then I can help you pass the eggs. If that’s okay.”

“‘Course,” said Stan. “Let’s get this party started.”

Stan handed the orange egg to Ryan, who lubed it up and placed it at Stan’s entrance. “You ready?” asked Ryan.

“Shit, babe. I may have the tightest asshole this side of Illinois, but your cock is enormous and I just had the best orgasm of my life. You could practically throw that egg in there.” 

Comforted and also unsettled by Stan’s words, Ryan slowly pushed the egg into Stan. Sure enough, the egg faced only minimal resistance before being sucked up into Stan’s body with a disgusting “SCHLUUUUUURP” sound. “NGHHHH,” Stan vocalized.

“Come on. I can take more. Fill me with your eggs, space monster,” moaned Stan.

Ryan made a breathy whining sound. “I’m not really into that kind of roleplay, but I do appreciate the effort. What color do you want next?”

“Sorry. Uh, surprise me,” Stan said. 

Ryan selected a bluish-purple egg with silvery swirls. He coated the egg in lube and shoved it on in there gently and with care. Stan moaned. He had just come and was certain that he wouldn’t be able to get it up again without a nice rest and some apple juice, but the eggs felt nice regardless. “C’mon, babe. Gimme that thick cock.” Well. Ryan never was good at saying no to cute brunettes.

The guitarist poised himself like a sprinter at the starting line, except his dick was the important part and the starting line was Stan’s asshole. He slowly slid his giant throbbing member into Stan’s tight, wet, egg-filled heat. “Fuck. You’re so full, babe,” Ryan moaned, trying really hard not to nut immediately.

As Stan adjusted to the insane girth of Ryan “Monster Cock” Ross’s giant dick, Ryan began to thrust. The men began to harmonize again. Ryan would have to ask this man to record with him later. 

Ryan lost all control when Stan reached up and flicked his nipple with a broad thumb. “Fuck, Brendon!” cried Ryan as he nutted in the condom on his dick in Stan’s pleasure hole.

“What?” asked Stan, concerned that Ryan had pegged him as his alter ego, Brandon Pinesbury, who was wanted in twelve states for attempted cow theft.

“What?” asked Ryan, still nutting.

“Nothing,” said Stan nervously.

Ryan pulled out of Stan and collapsed next to him. As he removed and tied his giant condom, he heard the telltale “PbrrrrtPOP! PbrrrrrtPOP!” that told him that Stan had passed the eggs. Both men cleaned up, took a well deserved piss, and settled into Ryan’s bed for the night. The pair talked lowly about everything and nothing as they settled in. One night stands can make for some good conversation, after all. As Ryan drifted off to sleep in Stan’s arms, a nearly inaudible sob snuck out of Ryan’s closet. Brendon Urie, who had been secretly hiding in Ryan’s room the entire time, had seen it all. He wrote in his notebook and cried over love lost. And that’s when the entirety of  _ Vices and Virtues _ was written.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my Bertie, without whom I would literally know nothing about Panic! at the Disco. Shout out to Ryden for existing. Shout out to mullet!Stan for existing in my heart.


End file.
